


A Whole New Form of Life

by popfly



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Gapfillerpalooza, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-14
Updated: 2005-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gapfiller for season two, episode five. Brian tries to look after Justin post-bashing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Whole New Form of Life

Sometimes Brian missed the way his life used to be.

Work, shower, eat, drink, fuck, sleep. It was a pleasant routine, and varied enough not to get too boring. He would switch it up on occasion - different bar for a blowjob, a trip to the baths after Babylon - but for the most part it was a nice pattern to follow. He got paid, he got off. Good enough for him.

Then came Justin. As cliche as it sounded, Brian knew that was when everything changed.

Now he made phone calls on his lunch breaks to Justin's cell phone, to see how his shift was going or what he was doing with his days off. Now he stayed longer in the loft at night, sometimes skipping Woody's altogether in favor of lingering over Thai takeout with Justin, or spending extra minutes in the shower with Justin before they got dressed to go out. Now he didn't try to find a guy to take home from Babylon, he just left with Justin.

He tried not to think about it too much. He was still getting paid, and still getting off. 

Except now he had someone else to worry about besides himself. He found himself watching Justin's face or the flex of his shoulder blades during sex, moving differently - slower, faster, harder, deeper - and seeing how Justin would react. He added a carton of pork fried rice to his Chinese dinner order because Justin loved the stuff. He made the cleaning service switch the detergent they used on his sheets and towels because the new brand they'd started using irritated Justin's skin. 

There were bigger things as well. Making his first appointment - as informal as it was - with a psychiatrist to figure out what he could do to help Justin get his memory back. Taking walks on Saturday afternoons so Justin could get used to crowds again. Working out a way to talk Justin into going to the Pride parade even after his encounter with Hobbes at the hospice made him set against the idea. There was always something to do, to try to fix.

*****

"This is like the sixth time I've called you. Wasn't class over hours ago? You don't have a shift tonight, right?" Brian pressed his fingertips against his closed eyes and sighed. He sounded like a worried housewife. He jabbed the button to disconnect the call before he could say something hideously embarrassing like "I'm worried about you, call me please", words he felt bubbling up. He took another gulp from his beer to shove them back down.

He waited at the loft later than he should have, and just caught the guys as they were leaving Woody's.

"Where's Justin? Did you wear him out?" Emmett leered goofily as Brian joined the group. 

"I don't know where he is. He didn't come home after class." Brian tried to make the words come out less whiny than they sounded in his head, and he thought he did a pretty good job. Emmett's snort told him otherwise, but whatever comment he was going to make he saved for Ted, leaning over so the two could snicker together. Brian felt a flare of anger. He wasn't Justin's keeper.

"He wasn't working, we were at the diner earlier." Michael looked up at Brian, a cautious look on his face. Brian shrugged and slung an arm around Michael's shoulders.

"He's probably got a hot professor and he's finding out how to get extra credit," Brian cracked, rolling his tongue into his cheek. Michael gave a weak laugh.

Babylon didn't seem to interest anyone that night. Michael sulked around behind Brian until Brian disappeared into the backroom and then he sulked around behind Ted and Emmett, who kept yawning and turning down invitations to dance. The guy who blew Brian was mediocre at best, and not even a bump could liven it up.

He re-joined the group on the edge of the dance floor and half-listened while Michael told the guys about his comic store closing and half-wondered if he should try calling Justin's cell phone for the ninth time that day.

Then Justin came bouncing out of the crowd, wide-eyed and grinning, his hair sweaty and spiked straight up, his shirt clinging to his chest.

He was obviously drunk and hopped up on something, ecstasy most likely, and Brian held back the questions he wanted to drill him with, choosing instead to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth and flipping a quip at him about packing a lunch for school.

"I quit."

Brian felt like he'd been knocked back on his ass, all his breath leaving in a whoosh. The guys reacted stronger than Brian thought they would but Brian couldn't say anything. Justin's tirade about popping pills and sticking his gimp hand in guys' pants rang in Brian's ears as Justin grabbed a guy and dragged him onto the dance floor.

"What's that all about?" Michael called down from his spot on the stairs. Brian watched Justin lean his forehead on the random guy's before shaking himself and looking up at Michael.

"It's pain management."

It was something Brian himself knew quite a bit about. He couldn't blame Justin for that part of it at all. But quitting art school, Brian couldn't let that happen.

He had to figure out what to do. He had to find a way to fix it. Because in the new version of Brian's life, that's what he did.


End file.
